


In the Stillness of the Night

by NancyDfan



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, burgeoning relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 01:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18560938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyDfan/pseuds/NancyDfan
Summary: It starts with a soft knock on his door.





	In the Stillness of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> So.....yeah I’ve barely written for them in like four months but today is the one year anniversary of the Delta Blues episode. This story just started playing in my mind and I thought okay well I’ll write you.
> 
> Not betad. Expect errors and zero grammar.

Lucy smiles.

This is the first thing Flynn notices when Lucy’s soft snores reach his ears. It’s as unexpected as her lying in his bed, and the realization warms his heart.

Only hours ago he stands in front of her tripping over his words trying to connect to her, trying to form the bond he knows they’ll share. Except she squares off angry reminding him she’s not the version Future Lucy describes in the journal she left for him in São Paulo. Similar, yes. He sees the same spark and passion that fills each page, but the woman he studies and reveres for two years is not the woman sitting in this stuffy San Antonio hotel bedroom. She’s closed off from him. But then he’s wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to safety, and they’re bonding over memories of strawberry shampoo and classic music. And in the moment as Lucy turns to smile at him while Robert Johnson sings in the night, he thinks he’s finally breaking through.

But nothing could prepare him for the sight of Lucy standing outside his door head leaning back, neck bared, and a vodka bottle full of promises and hope resting in her hand. He can only back up in wonder as she slips inside his room.

They’re awkward. Of course they are because it’s him, and it’s her. And many times they do their best communication without a single word. But Flynn wants to hear her quiet voice even when the memories are hard, and the pain is still raw. Because it’s him and it’s her, and only they know the pain and brokenness shared between them.

Lucy cries, and Flynn rushes to comfort her. He stumbles through words and soft looks, and her lips form a tight smile letting him know she receives his empathy, knows he understands.

They talk about the night on the balcony too. The words are heavy on his tongue, and when he turns to look at her, his eyes drift to her throat and shame pours through his veins. Lucy reaches for his hand then and forgives him. He’s pretty sure he’s crying too, and it feels good to hear her quiet understanding. “I have long since forgiven you. Try to forgive yourself.”

He nods not ready to let go of the sins he’s committed, but her words soothe old wounds plastered on his soul. Flynn changes the subject then joking about any other favorite presidents he could assassinate, and the glare she shoots him doesn’t hide the sparkle shining in her eyes. “I have a few ideas,” Lucy answers coyly, and if he didn’t know already, he understands now his heart is fully hers.

It takes longer than he expects for her to start slurring her words and spilling the drink on the floor. Flynn gently takes the bottle and glass from her hands suggesting maybe she could try water for a bit. Lucy makes a face but accepts the bottle of water he hands out to her anyway.

“‘m fine, and now I will have to pee all night!” Lucy says much louder than he thinks she intends. Flynn laughs softly, and she shoots him a dirty look. It’s an empty threat. She’s tired, and he knows it. Soon, she’s hunched over drifting off.

“Alright, I think it’s time we got some sleep,” Flynn tells her and helps her get situated under the covers.

Lucy makes what he imagines is supposed to be a scoff sound. “I don’t sleep. You neither. This is stupid.”

“It’s very stupid,” he agrees gently, adjusting the covers one last time and flipping off the light. “Goodnight, Lucy.” By the time he takes a seat, Lucy’s soft snores have filled the room, and a small smile tugs on her face.

Lucy’s right. He doesn’t sleep. Flynn couldn’t if he wanted too with the way his heart is pounding. But he doesn’t want to sleep, doesn’t want to miss any moment of this night. Her trusting him, forgiving him, and now laying upon his bed with the softest smile of happy dreams he knows she desperately needs. If she walks out of his room tomorrow to never return, he’ll always have this memory seared in his mind.

In the morning, there’s coffee and poorly worded jokes. Flynn blushes furiously as he stumbles over words he planned for hours, but Lucy grins anyway cooling the burning in his cheeks just a little. She sips her coffee, and he watches her in silence. And when she leaves with a smile and wave, he can’t manage words, but he’s sure his face says more than the words tumbling on his tongue. 

They barely talk throughout the day. The fight with Rittenhouse sweeps her away from him, and Flynn figures he has no right to demand her presence anyway. He wants it; he’s a fool to deny it, but he’ll never expect more than what she chooses to offer.

When Flynn lands in his bed that night, he swallows thickly as Lucy’s perfume drifts to his nose. He breathes deeply and closes his eyes trying to stop the thumping in his heart. Maybe one day he’ll earn her presence again, and she’ll trust him just a little bit more. Until then, he’ll wait.

Then he hears a soft knock.

Flynn jumps from his bed rushing to fling his door open. It’s embarrassingly earnest, but he hopes and he prays and he wants and he needs and

And then he’s standing at his door staring down at Lucy swaying awkwardly in front of him. “Can I come in?” she says softly, and he backs up welcoming her in.

There’s no alcohol this time. They talk less; they’re both tired from their last mission, but she smiles just the same as she slips into sleep.  
Soon, it’s a routine. Lucy knocks at night talking with him until she drifts to sleep on his bed, and he watches protectively from his post in the chair.

Then one night she holds out her hand. Flynn cocks his head confused. “Join me,” she says softly.

Flynn’s brain surges. “I’m, Lucy, what do you mean?”

Lucy shakes her head with the fondest smile he’s ever seen. “On this poor excuse for a bed,” she answers. “We both need sleep tonight.”

“No, I couldn’t,” he begins to argue.

Lucy sits with a huff. “Garcia Flynn, you held me on a dirty alley floor. I trust you to share a bed. Please. I,” she stops then turning away. “I need you near me tonight.”

All arguments melt on his tongue as he rushes forward sweeping her in his arms and holding her. She cries; he thinks he does too. But soon tears are replaced with soft breathes. “Thank you,” Lucy murmurs into his chest. Flynn shakes his head with confusion, and she reaches up touching his cheek. “I think it’s time you know I need you as much as you need me.”

Flynn searches her eyes. He doesn’t speak; words are never adequate with them, but he knows by the way she’s looking at him that she understands the love beating in his heart.

“I’m here for you too,” she adds softly snuggling closely. Flynn looks down at her, and this time he smiles too as sleep pulls him in.


End file.
